


Quarantine

by darkling59



Series: Annals of the Incomplete [27]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 00:42:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3549671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkling59/pseuds/darkling59
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another way that the meeting between Gwen and the Torchwood crew could have gone. Gwen and Rhys are infected by an alien virus and the team is sent to bring them in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quarantine

“RHYS!!!!”

Jack struggled to hold onto the screaming woman wriggling in his arms. He was sorely needed to help subdue the infected man they had come to collect but if he let her go, she would interfere and probably get herself killed.

“Calm DOWN!”

“Let me GO! Rhys!”

“Miss-!”

“What are you DOING to him?!”

 _Saving his life, you ignorant little-!_ “We’re trying to help!”

“You’re hurting him!”

“He’s-!”

“Let me GO!” He barely managed to catch one flailing arm before it connected with his face

“Owen, are you done yet?”

“Here’s an idea, why don’t you deal with the super powered nutter and I’ll deal with-.”

“Owen…”

“LET ME GOoo?” the screaming, which had been constant since the woman arrived to see them trussing up her boyfriend (fiancé? Husband? Friend?) petered out to nothing, along with her struggles, to Jack’s surprise and relief.

He quickly tried to readjust his grip so he could restrain her less awkwardly but froze when he saw what had caught her attention.

She was staring in wide eyed confusion at her hand which was beginning to sprout claws and grow fur. Jack almost missed her half-terrified, half-wondering “What the hell?” in his own sudden surge of panic. They could hardly deal with one infected person, how on earth would they deal with two?

“Owen!”

“Little busy here, Jack.”

“Get over here NOW!”

“I’m in the middle of-.”

“OWEN!”

“You just want me to let him go, then?”

Jack spared a glance at the plight of his subordinate and cursed; the rest of the team had finally managed to corner the original infected (what had the woman called him? Ryan? Race?) and were in the process of running him to ground. Since the man had already exhibited signs of violence, he was more important to capture than his still shell-shocked significant other.

“Get over here as soon as you’re done.” There was no reply but Jack wasn’t worried; NO ONE disobeyed him when he used that tone.

He turned back to the woman. She had apparently remained oblivious during the exchange, captivated by the changes she was going through. A whisper of awe could have been either a string of curses or prayers but it was too soft for Jack to make out the words.

“What’s happening to me?”

It might have been an introspective question; she seemed oblivious to the world around her, at any rate; but Jack chose to answer it anyways.

“You’ve been infected by the same thing that got your boyfriend.”

“Rhys?” reminded of her lover’s plight, she tried to turn back towards the field of conflict but Jack intercepted her and pulled her back around to face him. Score one for the boyfriend theory.

“He’s fine. We just want to help.”

“Help?”

“The…’infection’ causes extreme aggression in ninety percent of recorded cases.” _Out of our test study of ten, with you as the non-aggressive ten percent left over._ “We’re going to sedate him until he can be cured, so that he won’t hurt anyone against his will.”

“He wouldn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I didn’t think so.”

She was calming down. Thank God. He was already smarting from her previous ‘protests’; she seemed to have some experience in fighting dirty. Dealing with those same protests backed by claws, fangs, and amped up aggression would have been a nightmare.

“Hang on, I’ve been infected? How?” For the first time, she looked lucid and sane rather than sleep addled, frantic, or furious.

“We don’t know. It might-.”

“I’m here. What do you want?”

Jack mentally cursed Owen as the woman stiffened at his tone, narrowing her increasingly feral looking eyes.

“Owen, I’d like you to meet…what was your name?”

“Oh, um, Gwen Cooper.”

“Miss Gwen Cooper.”

“Yeah, so?”

Jack opened his mouth to respond with a biting comment but Ms. Cooper beat him to it.

“You’re a doctor?”

“Yeah.” He sneered at her.

“You’re going to help Rhys, then?”

“Who?”

“The infected.” Jack interjected. “And yes,” he turned to Gwen. “We will. But right now, I’m more concerned about helping you.”

He lifted her wrist and gestured at the slowly thickening black fur beginning to grow on the back of her hand.

“She’s infected?” All frivolity was gone from Owen’s tone, replaced by dread. This was the first communicated case they had come across and it might mean the…whatever was causing this…was becoming airborne.

“Yeah, about that. What am I infected with? I’ve never heard of a virus that made people grow fur before.”

“Are you having any strange urges?”

“What?!”

“Like to…I don’t know…rend, kill, destroy, maim…?”

“NO. Of course not!”

Owen exchanged a long look with Jack.

This new development of a non-aggressive strain might be the breakthrough they were looking for. Or it could be the sign of an epidemic.

“Miss Cooper, I’m going to have to ask you to come with us.”

“What? Why?”

“Quarantine.”


End file.
